What in the ever-loving fuck had happened to her life?

Domenica stared at her reflection in the mirror, then started automatically fixing her makeup. No matter what she faced during the rest of the night, it couldn’t hurt to have her war paint on.

Gian was a dragon. A fucking dragon. If he hadn’t looked as shocked and appalled as she was at that knowledge, she’d be royally pissed at him—hell, even the two seconds she’d stared at him in dragon form, he’d looked stunned. Well, she thought so, anyway. How did you tell with a dragon?

But still, she felt like she needed to be pissed off at someone. The trouble was, she was almost certain that Gian was as surprised by the revelation as she was. So, for this little twist of fate, she didn’t have anyone to direct her anger at.

Frustrating.

After he’d changed into the house-sized monstrosity that had broken a good chunk of his father’s house off, he’d quickly changed back into a human. That shift, at least, hadn’t seemed as gut wrenchingly painful, but he’d been so dazed and confused that nothing had been decided. Gian’s father had quickly taken charge—sending her to a new room and whisking his son away for the night.

A fucking dragon.

“Stop that,” she muttered to herself. If she allowed herself to dwell on that fact, she’d hide in the closet and never find her father.

Everything happened almost too fast to keep up. And she’d had to make a snap decision. Shit or get off the pot. Ride or die.

She wasn’t one to jump ship if things got rough, but she had to admit Gian’s revelation had shaken her. But she had agreed to marry him. And, if she was honest with herself, not just in exchange for his help in finding her father, something about him tasted like the freedom she’d always craved. Had she just tasted dragon?

She shook off the thoughts. The doubts. Gian was her family now, and she would kill for her family. Shit happened, it was time to roll with the punches. Gian would need her now more than ever, and she needed him just as badly. Her father was still out there, somewhere. She was convinced of that. If he’d been dead—no, he wasn’t dead. She felt like she’d sense it if he were.

She plucked her mascara from her bag and applied it to her lashes.

No, she wasn’t about to let anything shake her from her chosen path. But she needed to do some damage control.

And she needed to do everything in her power—limited though it was—to find her father herself.

She put her mascara back in her bag and grabbed her phone. Then she hit the number for the man she knew most likely would be loyal to her.

“Hello?” Tony said.

“It’s me.”

Tony let out a sigh—of relief, she thought. “We were worried about you. You wouldn’t believe the fucking rumor mill around here. People are saying Don Spadaro’s son is a dragon.”

“People say a lot of things. Ignore it,” she ordered. “Has anyone tracked down Giovanni yet?”

Her father’s oldest bodyguard and friend would have been the first place she’d have checked, but she couldn’t count on Biagio to have that much sense, if he was actually looking for her father at all.

“No one has seen him. I sent a couple of guys to look but he hasn’t been around since the same time your father disappeared.”

That made sense. If Giovanni hadn’t been taken or hurt when her father disappeared, he would have been the first in line to track him down. “What have you found out?”

“Biagio doesn’t trust me a hundred percent. Hell, that squirrelly bastard doesn’t trust anybody, really. But he seems frustrated about something. If he had something to do with your dad’s disappearance, then something hasn’t gone perfectly with it.”

Relief hit her like a heavy weight, and she leaned against the bathroom counter for support. Nothing so cut and dry as seeing her father for herself, or hearing his voice. But it gave her hope. And hope was a powerful thing.

“Keep me informed. Keep your eyes and ears open. And shut people the fuck up about Giancarlo.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

She hit end on the call and looked up to meet Giancarlo’s questioning gaze. Damn, she hadn’t heard him come into the bathroom behind her.

“What was that about?”

She wanted to trust him. Ached to trust him. But while she’d thrown her lot in with his, he had to understand her priorities. “That was about finding my father.”

He closed the distance between them in a flash, pressing her back against the bathroom wall. Then he stood over her, dominating her with his size and his closeness. Her mind twisted, fighting with her heart. Pissed off and weak in the knees. A frustrating combination.

“I told you to trust me to do that.” His voice was rough, as though his dragon was close to the surface.

“And I told you I don’t trust easy.” How dare he manhandle her like this. As if she were some run-of-the-mill hoe he’d picked up at a bar. Granted, they had hooked up at a bar. But that was entirely beside the point. “Besides, you’ve got your hands full right now.”

His eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about you. Or your father.”

“I haven’t forgotten about you either.” And she hadn’t. She tried to squash the rumors, hadn’t she? But she had a strong suspicion that was a losing battle. Not many men had seen Gian turn into a dragon. But it only took one. This kind of news would find its way out quickly. “I’m trying to keep this… All of this, quiet.”

As to what to actually do about it, she had no freaking clue. Dragons hadn’t been seen in decades, while they’d once been as common as any other powyrful group.

“By all of this, you mean me shifting into a dragon after fucking you?”

The air in the room shifted, changed. And suddenly, she wasn’t so sure they were fighting. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” Her voice was off, breathless. And something in her lower tummy tightened.

He took a long breath of the air. “My sense of smell was always good. But now… Honey, you smell delicious.”

Something serpentine flashed in his gaze, reflected in the mirror, and her breath hitched.

A light knock and the awkward sound of someone clearing their throat cut between them. Gian was the first to look away, over his shoulder at the intruder.

“What?” His voice was ice.

“Your father would like to speak with you, sir.” The man didn’t stutter. One of Gian’s men, and enforcer. A brave one, at that.

Gian’s gaze turned back to her. Yes. There was definitely something decidedly less human in his eyes. It should have scared her, and while it did just a touch, her overriding emotion wasn’t fear. She yearned to reach up, nip his lower lip. See what he would do. How far she could push him.

“We’re not finished here. You will wait for me.” With that, he turned and left.

Yeah. Like she had all the time in the world for waiting.

But she did wait. Only until Gian and his father were deep in a heated conversation before slipping out the front door. A touch of guilt hit her. But Gian would have to deal with his father alone for now. She had her own father to deal with.

The cab she’d ordered waited for her outside the front gate of Gian’s family home. She slipped inside and gave him the address. Then she tugged her phone from her purse and sent Tony a text. He confirmed that he and the men he was certain were loyal to her father would be waiting.

When the cabbie pulled up in front of her nail salon, she handed him a couple of twenties and hopped out. Nodding when he thanked her. Then she slipped in the back. Sure enough, Tony and three other men waited for her.

Only three.

She met Tony’s gaze and understood immediately. While there might be men other than these still loyal to her and her father, these were the only ones that Tony could be certain of their allegiance. And, just as importantly, the men that he knew would be likely to follow a woman.

“I think you all know why you’re here,” she said without preamble, and the men all stood straighter, their eyes locked on her. “Biagio is no Don. And I have no doubt that he is behind the disappearance of our true Don. My father will thank you for your loyalty.”

“No offense. But you got any idea about where we go to get the Don? I mean, his thanks is all well and good. But won’t help us much if Biagio sends us downriver before we can get him back,” one of the men, a newer guy named Danny, asked. A cousin, she thought. Maybe a second cousin.

“I do have an idea.” She almost smiled at the younger man to try to reassure him. But her father never would’ve smiled at a time like this. She had to show these men that she was strong, just as strong—no, stronger—than Biagio. If they sensed one bit of weakness from her, she’d lose them. These men admired one thing—powyr.

“And what idea is that?” Danny pressed.

“Biagio is the key to this. We watch him. Other leads are being followed, but I need you guys on this one. And I need everyone to keep an eye out for my father’s bodyguard, Giovanni,” she said. She kept her voice steely, but not harsh. Trying for the cadence and tone her father used when he spoke to his men. “We push hard on anyone who might know something. Patience, until we have more information. Then, we strike.”

As one, they nodded. Agreeing to her plan.

One battle down. A war to follow.

* * *

She crept forward, feeling silly hiding behind an SUV to peer at one of her father’s restaurants across the street. She imagined that Tony—big tough guy that he was—felt even sillier.

But that was just the beginning of her annoyances. The fact that Biagio was at her father’s favorite restaurant annoyed her to no end. Who did he think he was to just step in like this? Either the man was totally clean and just trying to do his job managing her father’s businesses while he was gone—something she highly doubted—or he had reason to believe that her father was no longer a threat to him. That, she refused to believe. Because she couldn’t.

“You don’t have to stay here,” Tony said, his voice pitched low. “I’ll watch the place. Let you know if anything interesting happens.”

“I need to be here. I need to do something,” she said. A little too honest, maybe. But Tony was more friend than an employee. And she didn’t doubt his ability to keep his mouth shut.

Her mind wandered as she kept her eyes glued to the restaurant across the street. Had Gian noticed her absence yet? She wouldn’t be surprised if he was still arguing with his father. If he had noticed, would he worry about her? Maybe she should’ve left him a note. That would’ve been the right thing to do, but she hadn’t been thinking clearly when she’d slipped out. She’d needed action. Needed to do something.

“Get up. Slow. And keep your hands where I can see them,” a low voice said from behind them.

Shit. She turned slowly, as ordered. Tony did the same, his body tense and ready for a fight.

She recognized the man immediately. He was one of the newer guys in her father’s organization. One that followed Biagio around like a puppy since he started.

The man smiled, an evil grin. “Boss has been looking for you.”

“You don’t say,” she muttered. Tony glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but she shook her head. She wasn’t getting Tony—or herself—shot if she could help it.

“Come with me.”

The man tried to get them to go to the back of the restaurant; she could see a clear line the way they were headed.

She turned and faced him. “I’ll talk to Biagio. In the restaurant proper. Maybe I’ll even let him buy me a glass of wine.”

The man frowned. “Boss said to bring you in the back.”

She bared her teeth at him. “I’ll bet the boss didn’t say you could shoot me.” With that, she steeled her spine and altered her route, heading for the front door. Behind her, Biagio’s man muttered expletives and tried to order her back on their prior path. She ignored him. She didn’t want to get shot, but the risk was minimal. Biagio wouldn’t have her shot on the street. Not when he still wanted her. And, most importantly, not while he still tried to secure his power.

Biagio’s man followed her into the restaurant, still muttering angrily under his breath. Ignoring him, Domenica nodded to the hostess and headed back to her family’s normal table.

As if she hadn’t had it memorized since she was twelve years old, she picked up a menu and scanned it while she waited. He didn’t keep her long.

Biagio sat across from her at the table. His expression was a pleasant façade, all teeth and beady eyes. But the red flush crawling up his neck over his cheeks and face gave away his anger.

Good. She liked nothing better than the idea of pissing this man off.

“Domenica, my dear, how nice of you to drop by.” Still more teeth. The man should have been a used car salesman.

“How nice of you to send the invitation,” she said, playing along. The man couldn’t cow her. She wouldn’t allow it. Granted, Tony had been relieved of his gun. And the restaurant wasn’t exactly what she’d call full this time of day. Only one other couple and a few employees lingered about. And she had no doubt Biagio could clear the room in a few seconds if necessary. Biagio’s man lurked behind him, well-armed. She had little doubt that others lurked in the back room as well.

“Have you thought about my offer?”

“The one where I spread my legs for you in exchange for my safety?” If he was shocked by her wording, he didn’t show it. “Not for one second. I find you despicable. And disgusting. And I wouldn’t sleep with you in a million years.”

Finally, a crack.

Biagio stood, his face twisting with rage. Before she could react, he’d rounded the table and grabbed her by her shoulders. His man pulled his gun, keeping it pointed at Tony. From the corner of her eye she could see that Tony looked unsure.

“Stay where you are, Tony,” she commanded. She wouldn’t get the man shot over a little bit of roughing up that she had practically begged for.

“You don’t order him around, you stupid bitch. I’m the Don now.” Biagio spat as he talked, and it took every bit of her willpower not to flinch when flecks touched her face. So gross.

“You’ll never be the Don. You just don’t have the balls for it,” she told Biagio. “You should never have been made a Capo.”

Pain spiked from her cheek, as Biagio slapped her. Tony took another step toward them, and she held out her hand, halting him. Eyes stinging, she met Biagio’s gaze and refused to look down. Rage danced in his eyes, and there was an edge that she didn’t like. Biagio was a lot of things, but she’d bet her whole empire that stable and fully sane weren’t among his qualities.

The door whooshed open, and she heard a ruckus behind her. Her men had arrived.

Unfortunately, so had Biagio’s. They poured out of the back, and shots were fired.

“Fuck!” Tony yelled, grabbing her out of Biagio’s grasp while he was distracted. Together, with the cover from her men, they made it outside.

Biagio followed, his men surrounding him.

She had to stop this. Had to do something to keep it from turning into a bloodbath. How would her father deal with that? Coming back to find she’d gotten half his men killed?

Biagio took a step toward her, and someone—something—roared.

She turned to see Gian. Shifting. Very, very publicly.

Well, fuck.